Islands Apart
by SportyScribe2
Summary: A sequel to A Question of Science
1. Homecoming

Richard huffed to himself for the umpteenth time as he tried to get himself comfortable again. Of course the Met did not spring for even the smallest of upgrades, so here he was, cramped up in his seat, and already missing Camille.

He's started to muse about his fastidious habits – lord had they really started when he first went to Cambridge? He suspected not, having been to a boarding school where he find solace in place and order.

Oh well thankfully there were no kicking children or drunken passengers to deal with, as he tried to drift off again.

* * *

><p>The bedlam in Heathrow's immigration hall nearly sent his blood pressure off the charts, but as he struggled through the doors, thankful that his case had at least followed him to London, he didn't realise just how relieved he'd be to see his father waiting.<p>

"Alright Son… good flight?" as he held out his hand.

"Yep – you know… cramped…" Richard tried to read his father's expression – was he happy to see him again so soon?

"Well I hope you aren't feeling too jetlagged – what started out as a "favourite snack" from your mother has turned into a full blown roast… chicken ok for you?"

"Oh god yes" Richard grinned in relief.

As they made their way into the house, it became aware that his father was almost… protecting him from his mother's attempts to quiz him on Camille. They chatted about the impending promotion, the duties – they shared a rolling of the eyes at the prospect of the amount of networking Richard would be expected to do with leading politicians and business contacts until finally Kate Poole sighed: "Oh for heaven's sake Michael enough… I need to talk to Richard about Camille."

Michael Poole shot his son a look: "Sorry Rich, I did try and hold it off for as long as possible!" he said grinning at him.

* * *

><p>They retired to the front room and Richard braced himself for the barrage of questions – and he wasn't disappointed! He was stunned – his mother sounded like a speeded up record:<p>

_When did he realise he was in love with her, because he was, wasn't he? In love with her? Oh and what were their plans? How ever did he get the commissioner's permission? Wait, you're not going to be in trouble with The Met, no of course not, otherwise you wouldn't be back so soon, when can we come over to meet her, can we skype her… we have skype now…_

When she finally paused for breath he burst out laughing.

"One thing at a time mum" smiling as his dad placed a small scotch in front of him.

"So… I asked her out on a couple of dates when I got back, but at the ball when the Commissioner told me about the new opportunity and asked me what it would take to stay, well let's just say the cunning old goat probably saw where the two of us were heading and decided to grease the wheels a bit."

They chatted a while about the house, Richard showing them some pictures as he tried to gear up the courage to ask his mother for a favour.

"Well, there is one thing I do need to ask – would it be ok, I mean, would you mind if I asked for Granny Cole's rings?"

Richard had been looking down coyly while he asked, and when he was aware of the lack of response he looked up to see his parents staring back at him wide eyed, and open mouthed in stunned silence


	2. In A Different Light

Richard couldn't understand it, or rather he really hoped that their stunned silence was nothing more unsavoury.

_Shown them pictures of Camille when I was last here – CHECK_

_Just been showing them pictures of the damn house we share including the bedroom… where did they think I slept, the shed? CHECK_

He shook himself and started to defend his request when he noticed that in fact his mother became misty eyed and his father wasn't sure if he should clap his son on the shoulder or pass his wife a tissue, so he grabbed the box of tissues, clouting Richard on the shoulder with it before waving it in the general direction of his wife.

"Sorry son, it's just to us old fashioned folk it seems a bit quick – a couple of dates and then you're living together? I mean there's no, ummm, you know… little Poole in the works is there?" said his father, reddening at having to be so impertinent as to ask if he was going to be a grandfather.

"God of course not. Well, I don't think so. Look. You saw the pictures of my team, I am going to be living in the Caribbean, so to be honest I don't care if you have a problem with her…" Richard started to retort, defensively.

"Wait, Richard hang on a minute. That isn't the issue at all – for heaven's sake boy" barked his father, shutting him up sharply.

There was another awkward silence as Richard tried to assimilate everything that was swirling in his head.

"Did you really think we'd disapprove?" his mother said, quietly

"I don't know – I guess I didn't really think about it as you seemed to be so full of questions. And I know it seems quick but you know we have known each other for two years. I'm still quite amazed she didn't throw me off the top of a volcano in that first year to be honest! Over this last year I think we both knew we wanted to be something more – but with me as her direct superior, I just couldn't break the rules like that.

"The commissioner had made vague hints of 'we're a lot more relaxed here' I guess like he was giving his permission for me to maybe ask her out – but then when he presented me the opportunity to stay with no rules and regs in the way, I decided why the hell shouldn't I be happy for once.

"I know it's not The Met, strictly speaking, and I know that this is home, and honestly it always will be. But when I was down here with the prisoner, all the time I just wanted to go back to see my team. To see her."

Richard stopped talking, surprised at just how much he had opened up to his parents. He looked up at them.

Michael Poole stared back at his son – they had that whole British reserved thing going on but there had been something different about him when he had come home briefly before. A sense of confidence in him that he hadn't seen since the lad went off to Cambridge.

"Look – all any parent wants, yes even me, is for their child to be happy. If you could have seen yourself when you came back, you were brimming with pride for the team and what the Commissioner had said about them and about how you guys have worked, you were talking up your officers to the heavens – you never were like that when you were in Croydon. You were like a different man."

"It's just a bit of a shock that you want to propose so soon dear," said Kate. "I mean of course you can have my mother's rings, but you may need to get them resized. But don't you want to spend some time living together? I mean you have been together in the, ummm, true sense of the word for only a little time – doesn't it make sense to wait and see how the job and everything settles down?"

"Well I'm not getting any younger" he tried to say jocularly. "Anyway, I know her ring size. I asked her mum for it. It's not like I am going to propose when I land in the airport while I wait for my more than likely lost luggage!"

Michael refilled his scotch and sat back down. "Knowing you and your propensity for planning you've probably picked somewhere out already?"

Richard nodded – explaining about the driftwood bench where he had offered her flowers for Aimee.

"Wait – you want to propose to her on a bench which will always remind her of her dead best friend" Michael said raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

"It's not like that," Richard retorted although the look of amusement that passed between his parents did not escape him!

"It's also near where I first really told her how much I thought of her. I had to sit on the sand and everything," he finished, a little sheepishly.

Michael chuckled, as the tension that had brewed up lapsed between them all. "At least I proposed somewhere really romantic" he said with a touch of smugness. "On Hampstead Heath."

Richard bit his lip. "Yes ok well that probably was very romantic" he conceded until his mother snorted with laughter causing both Poole men to turn and face her.

"I wouldn't get too carried away with the competition between you and your father dear… he proposed over a bag of chips because he really wanted the tuppenny's worth of scraps at the bottom!"

Richard started to relax more, although couldn't fight the yawn as the jetlag started to catch up with him.

"I'll give you a hand with the bags - and maybe you can bribe me not to show Camille your old battered teddy when we speak to her," said his father.

Richard looked at him like he was seeing him for the first time. Michael gave him a playful punch on the arm as they took the bags upstairs and Richard realised that since Camille had come into his life, he was seeing a lot of things in life differently.


	3. Awkward Similarities

She checked her text for the hundredth time, contemplating flinging her phone across the bar, but instead giving her watching mother a brief smile, played with her beer bottle and then checked the text again.

Catherine sauntered over to join her daughter – it amused her to see her headstrong, fiercely independent Camille quite lovelorn and made her miss the days when her daughter was just discovering how attractive she was and dealing with the attention. In a way the split with Marlon had dented her confidence from a young age – if her own father hadn't wanted her, then why would anyone else.

"Nothing yet, chère?

"No," Camille replied, just as the phone buzzed into life. She snatched it up to read before her mother could glimpse the message (not that she would snoop, or that Richard would have suddenly started to send more risqué messages, of course!).

_Arrived, so did luggage! In the car with dad and heading home to a roast! Miss you though, chat a little later? R x_

She smiled and felt like a teenager.

"He's arrived, along with his suitcase and I guess his mother is making him a roast dinner," she said, aware that she was probably grinning like a fool.

"Well, so long as he says that my roasts are good too, I'll allow it," Catherine joked back. She had genuinely become fond of him, even more so now that she hoped real grandchildren were in the future somewhere!

But there was one thing that made her feel a bit wary – it was all very well putting faces to the names of the team, but would his parents be so readily accepting if they knew that one of the team may be a much more permanent partner. She thought back to her own parents and their reaction to her marriage to Marlon, and their cool attitude towards her beautiful daughter, simply because of her race.

Camille noticed the frown appearing on Catherine's face and raised her eyebrow, questioningly at her.

"So, what is Richard planning to tell his parents about you then?" she asked.

Camille bit her lip and contemplated this. "Well they obviously know now that we have moved in together, I guess. And of course I don't know what the future will bring us, but they will know he's coming back to live here for good and at the house – I mean…." Her voice trailed off. Would they be happy with that? From what Richard had said, his mother had been teasing him about finally putting a face to the name, and admitting that he had sent her lots of emails mentioning her – something she thought quite sweet.

* * *

><p>The rest of the team were noisily making their way in to the bar – it was a rare evening where Fidel was bringing Juliet out, and Dwayne was already working the room to see who he could sprinkle the Dwayne love dust over.<p>

Catherine bustled away to tend to the team and the rest of the bar and Camille started to relax a little. The new guy came out occasionally but his wife was back from some botany trip so she assumed he would want to stay at home.

So she was surprised to see him shuffling in on his own, opting to raise her eyebrows in an unasked question as he awkwardly dragged a chair up to the table that was becoming quite crowded.

"Sally arrived but she's a bit tired – wanted to get her stuff unpacked but the lack of space in the shack annoys her, so it's best to be out of her way while she has the run of the place.. I'm sure Richard is the same?" he said, by way of explanation.

Camille tried not to flush… sure Richard was quite fastidious, but that was usually after some pretty enthusiastic greetings when he'd been on Guadeloupe and away from her, and she could normally find a way to turn his mind to more fun pursuits.

But it was interesting – Sally was a lot like Richard had been. She hated the heat, had nothing but disdain for the rum-based drinks, she loathed the food. Camille was not really sure how she was going to cope at all in a place like this.

She sat back and watched the group, Fidel laughing at yet another rebuff by some streetwise lady at Dwayne's attempts to charm her, Juliet chattering excitedly, enjoying the break from Rosie, and Humphrey, just taking everything in around him, watching his team relax in each other's company. Every so often, though, he would let out a sigh.

"She must have unpacked already?" Humphrey was stirred from his thoughts to see his DS looking at him quizzically.

"Err well yes I suppose so?" he said.

"Maybe she'd like to join us?"

Humphrey considered this. The awkwardness that would ensue when his wife was anywhere near the proximity of Camille was nothing to his own awkwardness around her. She was so confident and vibrant. She was, in short, everything Sally was not.

"No – best to leave her be, although it might be worth getting in her good books for the traditional Sunday lunch here."

"Well ok," acquiesced Camille. She glanced down as her phone buzzed into life with another text from Richard. Humphrey regarded her as her features softened as she read the text, and then her eyes glowed as she quickly typed he reply back, settling back in her chair with a loving smile.

_Ahhh what wouldn't I give to see a smile like that any day of the week_ he thought, re-living the annoyed huff from Sally as she set about sweeping out the sand he had somehow managed to traipse in all over the place in her absence.

"I think tomorrow I'd really better get my head around some house hunting… otherwise I think Sally will bury me under the shack," he tried to joke as his own phone went off, with a curt missive from his wife that she was tired and didn't want to be waiting up all night for him to get home.

"I'd best go – Sally… well you know, she's pretty tired and wants to turn in I think…"

"You get off home and see to your wife chief"," said Dwayne, accompanying it with an exaggerated wink.

Humphrey started to explain that it really wasn't anything like that, but stopped himself. What would be the point. He grinned sheepishly as his foot caught a chair, toppling it over, and he sketched a wave to the team as he headed back.

As he started to walk down the road, he heard Camille's voice, laughing and chatty and he turned, only to see her walking back towards her place, chatting on the phone obviously to Richard. Not for the first time he wondered how Poole had wound up so lucky. Stifling his feeling of jealously he trudged towards the shack, wincing as Sally started on him for forgetting to leave his shoes at the door, and making a mental note to ask Poole how he managed to keep sand away from the sanctity of his home!


End file.
